Colonial Heights
by iamnormabates
Summary: Norma Bates has always been worried about her son's blackouts. She's actually so worried, that she's decided to institutionalize him into a psychiatric hospital named 'Colonial Heights'. How will this affect Norman's psychosis? And will this facility really help him with his...problems?
1. For Us

One shock. Two shocks. Three shocks.

My body was beginning to convulse and my vision was terribly blurred. My memory was fading and I was soon forgetting how I came to be here. Strapped to this chair and forced to take electric shocks straight to my skull. I wasn't insane. Why was I here?

* * *

One month before:

Mother sat me down on the couch, a few minutes before she told me that we needed to talk. She didn't sound too serious…why, just a couple of moments ago she was smiling and hugging me. It wasn't anything serious.

She threw her body onto the couch, seeming exhausted from whatever endeavors she perused today. She let out a small sigh and touch her forehead with two fingers.

"Norman, I'm worried about you."

"I know mother, but you shouldn't be. Everything is under control. I mean, I don't even go to school anymore. I am practically here all the time!" I laughed, the situation felt relaxed until her face became sterner. More…serious.

"I want to help you. I'm scared for you and for me. I went to Colonial Heights psychiatric hospital and-"

I clenched my fists into the couch. I tried to hold back as much anger as I could and my jaw was clenched so tight it began to hurt, "You what? Is that where you've been all day? When you said you were running 'errands' Oh, I see." I couldn't look at her anymore, I fixated my gaze onto the floor. I felt betrayed.

"Norman, these people can help you! They-they aren't like that therapist! Gosh, no! They are professional and they know what they are doing." She placed her hand on my thigh and caressed it very lightly – she was scared to touch me.

"I don't need help, I just need you. Remember? It's always just been me and you."

"I know but you need help, help that I cannot give you Norman."

I turned my head to finally face her and she was scared, her look was no longer stern. She seemed terrified. Terrified of what my reaction would be? Or just terrified of me in general? I didn't know anymore. My emotions were running all over the place and the only thing that seemed to be conscious was my anger.

"So you've given up on me?!" I rose from the couch with my fists still clenched together.

"No, Norman! It's the opposite of that! I care about you and I want to help you!" She rose from the couch as well. I saw that she was shaking and it seemed she didn't know what to do with herself, so her trembling hands straightened out her skirt, "I've already gotten you a room. You're leaving tomorrow at eight am."

"Oh no, mother, I'm not going anywhere!" My anger was taking control. I saw her flinch and retreat back. It was no wonder she wanted to send me off to a crazy house, why, I was beginning to realize the situation. But that didn't mean I was going.

"Norman, you don't have a choice! You're going!" She stepped closer to me and it also seemed like her anger was taking control. She was done playing the sweet and caring mother role, it was time to take action, "You need help! You black out and- and you don't know what you do! So you're going and that's the end of it!" She waved a finger a few inches from my face. She always does that.

My anger was still very much alive but now my other emotions were starting to slip through. What was I going to do without mother? She was my entire world and the whole reason I was still here. How am I supposed to cope without her? How am I supposed to go along in life without her by my side? I was scared now, and it was showing.

"Mother, you're being ridiculous! What about you? I'll never get to see you!"

"They have visiting hours and days, sweetie. I'll get to see you as often as I want to." Her voice was calm again, her anger seemed to be over shortly considering I had shown another emotion of my own.

"But, it won't be the same. Mother, you're my whole world."

"And you're my whole world Norman. That's why I'm doing this, that's why I'm getting you help. Please, for us?" She stepped closer to me. Her heels lightly clicking onto the wood floors. She placed her right hand on my cheek and looked into my eyes. I always hated when she looked at me this way…with those beautiful and enchanting blue eyes. I would always give in to anything she wanted when she looked at me this way. And maybe it was for the best? The best thing for us.

"Okay, Mother. You're right."

I smiled slightly and held her hand that was placed on my cheek. She smiled in return, that smile that shows all of her gleaming white teeth and turns my heart into another emotion other than anger or sorrow.

"Thank you, sweetie. This is going to be good. I promise!" She stepped back and clapped lightly. "You should start packing soon. I'll help if you need me to, honey." She let out another smile. This one seemed forced. It didn't seem thrilled or enlightened like before. I could see behind that smile. That smile was worry and doubt.

"Of course, Mother."


	2. Pancakes

I woke up very early and dressed myself in a suitable button down and slacks. The morning was seemingly normal. I went downstairs and the aroma of fresh pancakes and sweet syrup filled the air. Mother was fixing breakfast as usual. I was going to miss this. I was going to miss her. The floorboard creaked as I approached her, she spun around and her hair flowed into her face. She brushed it back and smiled.

"Sit down, honey! I've made your favorite – pancakes with fresh blueberries!"

She smoothed out the front of her apron and smiled at me. She approached me closer and brushed my hair out of my face before kissing my cheek very lightly.

"It smells wonderful, mother."

I managed a slight smile before sitting myself down at the table. She brought my stack of pancakes in front of me, placing a few fresh blueberries on top of them. She turned away momentarily to pick up the syrup dispenser, turning back quickly she began to pour a generous amount onto them. There seemed to be a moment of uncomfortable silence and heavy breathing on my part as the syrup slowly poured out.

"Is that enough, Norman?"

I answered with a simple head nod.

She pulled back on the dispenser and caught the remainder of the syrup on her finger. There was a pause as she glanced into my eyes before taking her syrup covered finger into her mouth. I cleared my throat, looking away briefly as I fidgeted with the napkin lying in my lap. When I returned my gaze back to her she was now licking her lips, her no longer syrup covered finger was removed from her mouth. I thought about her mouth a lot. More so than a son should think of his mother. I wanted to know what it was like to feel her mouth…-

She snapped me back to reality when she finally spoke again, "Go ahead and start eating sweetie, we haven't got much longer until we leave. You know the drive is almost two hours." She sat down at her end of the table, grabbing her knife and fork as she began to cut into her stack of pancakes.

The drive was excruciatingly long and dull. The scenery was very boring and it seemed to get even more awful the farther we drove. It didn't help that mother was particularly quiet the whole ride. I wanted to know what she was thinking about. She didn't seem to be nervous or distraught at all.

"Mother, are you alright?" I turned my head to face her, I wanted to see what emotions she might possibly express. Was mother even going to miss me?

"Yes honey, yes – of course." She placed her right hand on my thigh, "Everything is fine. This is great – I'm happy that you're doing this for us." She glanced quickly away from the road to smile at me.

"I'm going to miss you, mother." I placed my hand on top of hers and wrapped my fingers into hers. That always helped me relax.

"I'm going to miss you, Norman." She squeezed my hand hard.

Approximately one hour and forty-six minutes we arrived at Colonial Heights psychiatric institution. We pulled up to the front gate and it creaked open very slowly. This place had a very creepy atmosphere to it and it seemed to be very old. I was becoming increasingly nervous as mother parked the car.

"It's going to be alright, sweetie." She turned her body in the car to face me, brushing away hair from my forehead. "I promise." She ran her fingers down the back of my neck.

She turned her body around and opened her door, grabbing her purse and she got out of the car, "Do you need me to help carry your suitcases?"

"No, mother, I've got it."

I exited the car and grabbed my two larger suitcases before grabbing my final smaller suitcase. It was astonishing that my whole personal belongings only amounted to three suitcases.

Mother guided me into the building as we were greeted by a middle-aged woman who was dressed particularly on the expensive side.

"This is my son, Norman. I've had his room booked for today at eight am."

"Ah, yes! Nice to meet you, Norman. My name is Mrs. Baker and I take care of reception and new guests." She reached her hand out for me to shake it but my hands were preoccupied with my suitcases, "Let me get those for you and we'll take those up to your room for you." She unloaded the weight of the suitcases from me and placed them next to herself.

"When will I get to see my room?"

"Here shortly, we just need your mother to sign a few papers and you'll be all set Norman." She smiled at me, it was obviously over exaggerated and she was trying a bit too hard to be welcoming.

A man wearing a nice tux came down the stairs and proceeded to take my suitcases. What was this? A hotel? Was he some sort of bellhop? This facility was obviously very expense and I was concerned as to how mother could even afford this for me.

After mother signed the papers they went over the visiting hours. It was three days a week – Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from two p.m to five pm. That didn't seem very often and that seemed like such a short time with my mother. She told me she would be able to visit all the time, at any time. I clenched my fists as an anger started to build up inside of me.

"We can take you up to your room now, Norman." Mrs. Baker smiled at me again and gestured for me to follow her.

"Let me say goodbye to my mother first."

"Of course, Norman."

I turned to face my mother and I engulfed her with my arms, I hugged her so tight but I felt like I wasn't getting enough of her. My lungs felt like they were going to collapse and my chest felt so tight. Her arms were generous in return, feeling the back of my neck and all over my body. I wanted her whole being to swallow me.

She pulled back and looked at me in the eyes, her hands on either side of my face, her emotion was showing through her face and it was pure sorrow, "Norman – I love you. More than anything in this world. You are the best thing in this horrible world."

I could feel my eyes watering up but I refused to cry at a time like this, in front of these people at a mental facility, "I love you, mother, you're everything to me."

She pulled away from me and tears flowed from her eyes, she wiped them away with the back of her hand, "Everything is going to be okay, remember? I will see you Wednesday Norman, I'll be here at two pm." She walked away quickly, as if she didn't want to see me anymore. She didn't want to face reality anymore. And neither did I.

"This way now, Norman?" Mrs. Baker gestured her hand up the stairs. I nodded and began to follow her up the stairs.

We walked up the stairs until getting to floor two. There were a total of twenty-six rooms on my floor, almost all of which seemed to be occupied. The hall was a very dull gray color and the rooms were blatantly labeled with numbers. I was room twenty-two, the room at the upmost end of the hall.

"Here you are, Norman. Your suitcases have already been placed inside. If you need anything at all, let me know. We have supper downstairs in the main lobby at seven pm." She turned away and started back down the hall.

I opened up the door to my room and someone was already sitting on my bed.

"Mother?"

"You didn't really think I would leave you, did you, Norman?"


	3. Plastic Utensils

I stood frozen for a moment as I watched my mother sitting on the bed. Her lips pursed together and her stature sitting up straight, her blonde tight curls resting on her pink cheeks. She looked as beautiful as ever. But I thought she had left me for good. I thought she had abandoned me.

"Mother, I'd thought you'd left me."

"Sweetie, no. I'm always here for you." She stood up and walked towards me, her heels clicking ever so slowly onto the floor.

"But that's the whole reason I'm here, isn't it mother?" I fidgeted with the pockets of my pants as my confusion began to overwhelm me. Why would mother insist on leaving me at a mental hospital when she is going to be here as well? This didn't make sense.

"No, honey. You just need a little help, but I am always going to be here for you. I'm never going to leave you." She approached me until our faces were almost touching. She was wearing my favorite blue dress of hers. She licked her lips and brushed some hair out from my face, "I'm going to be with you this whole time, okay? But it's got to be our little secret, do you promise?" She brought her fingers to my cheek and began to caress me.

So mother is going to stay here with me in secret? It's starting to make sense to me now, of course it's got to be a secret that she is here with me at all time - and that must've been the reason she told me she could see me at any time. My confusion was subsiding and it felt like relief was finally settling in, "I do."

After countless hours spent in my room, and a couple of visits from the "orderlies", the time to go down to the main floor for lunch was finally here. My worries were starting to consume me because I felt like I might be surrounded by a bunch of….lunatics! And why, I'm not insane or crazy – I might have blackouts but I'm nowhere near crazy.

Upon arriving on the main floor I was taken to the dining area – to say that this dining area was large would be an understatement. It was very large, with six long tables that stretched from one end of the room to the other, fancy chandeliers hanging from the walls and tall candles lit upon every table. The food was already prepared and was strayed across every table with plates and plastic utensils. This place seemed unreal, and I was beginning to forget that I was at a psychiatric hospital.

I took my seat at one of the fewer empty tables – away from everyone. Most of the people seemed to be relatively _normal_ , but as I saw closer there were a few of them who seemed to be distant, some were twitching and others were talking to themselves. I wasn't afraid of these people, though I didn't fit with these people either.

I was startled when a girl abruptly sat down next to me, "You're new." She was fair skinned with brunette hair, her eyes were a dark brown with dark rings below them – she looked so exhausted, "My name's Bradley. What's your name?"

I hesitated for a moment before responding, "Norman." I fidgeted with my utensils. I noticed her staring right at me – she never took her eyes off me for one moment.

"Is this your first day, Norman?" She propped her elbow up on the table and rested her chin into her hand. She looked very intrigued as to what my response would be.

"Yes. I got here at eight this morning." I halfheartedly smiled at her. She didn't seem like a bad person or of any trouble – she didn't seem like a lunatic.

"You're in for something, Norman. I've been here for two months." I watched as her eyes faded from light to dark, her smile seeming to dim away, "Suicidal tendencies." Her eyes rolled and she shot a smirk at me. She waited for me to reply – I'm assuming she wanted to know what I was doing here. It didn't seem like much of her business and I didn't want to make it a habit to tell every other patient what I was in here for, but she seemed nice.

"I have these blackouts. And I don't know what I do during them." I glanced at her to see a reaction and her expression never changed. She didn't seem to mind that I just told her I did things without truly knowing I was doing them. She wasn't scared or even miffed by it.

"I like you, Norman." She paused for a moment, "-you're different. A good different."

Dinner only lasted an hour and after that we are strictly kept in the confinements of our rooms, unless on the occasion of having to go to the bathroom, in which you must contact an orderly who stands outside the hall. Once I heard this news I was snapped back to reality that I was in a psychiatric hospital.

I made my way back up to my room. The flights of stairs seemed endless and it occurred to me that they didn't have an elevator, which seemed odd considering how extravagant this facility was. An orderly followed me to my room and made sure I was well aware that they had to lock our rooms during the night hours. So I went into my room and threw myself onto my bed. I heard the click of the lock. I picked up a book and began to read for the remainder of the time before bed. Another hour past by and it seemed to be a suitable time for rest. I put my book down – and then I saw my mother.

"Norman." She titled her head and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Mother." I sat upright on my bed. She seemed to be upset, but at what?

"I don't trust that girl, Norman." She shook her head disapprovingly.

"But mother, she's a nice girl. I like her."

"Norman." She glared at me this time, "you know what you have to do."


End file.
